


Learning Russian: Watching

by GunKat



Series: Learning Russian [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunKat/pseuds/GunKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of a series of drabbles and small snippets of the relationship between the Chop Shop girl and the Red Peril to the amusement of the Cowboy. Gaby/Illya</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Russian: Watching

Sometimes Napoleon wondered how drunk he’d have to get Illya before he’d act upon the sizzling glances that went between the giant and the tiny woman by his side. Napolean folded down the paper to watch, entertained as the Red Peril growled every time Gabby reached out a toe to try knock over pieces. The growling intensified as she went again for the king with her foot and Illya grabbed it and tucked it into his lap. She nudged his ribs with her toes, and he shot her an annoyed look before placing a quelling hand on her ankle.  
  
Napolean smiled as he lowered the paper even more. Whenever the two of them squabbled, it was always at the least entertaining as Gaby could smash the buttons of the brute so quickly and forcefully but not in the lasting hurt sort of way that Napoleon himself could. Illya could smile and laugh at her afterward, whereas Napoleon feared that he’d end up with a muzzle at his back.  
  
Gaby stared hard at Illya, and raised the other foot, stretching out and waiting for the growl, low in Illya’s throat to start before pulling it back. When the growl subsided, she’d reach out again, testing the waters. Napoleon watched as Illya’s eyes dropped to Gaby’s foot rather than the game and his hand shot out to grab it before the small mechanic could pull it back. He tucked it with the first and then put down an elbow on both of them to keep them still.  
  
“You will sit still.” It was a command, not a request in Illya’s heavily accented English.  
  
“Or what, you’ll put me over your knee?” Gaby teased, sliding deeper down into the couch so that her feet were more fully onto his lap.  
  
“Eef you are lucky.” Illya grunted. Napoleon raised the newspaper again as he mentally filed that one away to tease the Peril with later. He grumbled and shot her an annoyed look as her heels found the crease between his legs, and he took a hold of her tiny feet in his hands, and began to massage the arch of her foot with his thumb. Gaby melted and ceased all movement as her arms fell languidly over the side of the chaise. He let go to make the next move, and then returned, frowning at the complicated situation he’d gotten the black side into while absent mindedly massaging her foot. Napoleon finished the last article and folded the paper, tucking it under his arm as he stood to leave.  
  
“Much as it entertains me to watch this domestic bliss, the concierge is off in 10 minutes and I plan to leave my door unlocked to see what bites.” Solo said, pausing at the door. “Might even be her.”  
Napoleon grinned as he shut the door behind him after a low moan from Gaby chased him out. He planned to be well out of the way before the two of them started throwing things as they always would be, usually each other, against walls.


End file.
